


It's Dangerous, I'm Falling (A Cat Like You Should Wear A Warning)

by toucanpie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: (heh), Alternate Universe, Brief mention of past medical experimentation, Catboys & Catgirls, Heavy Pettting, M/M, otherwise shameless fluff, repurposing iron man villains just because, some light collar/ribbon kink, what do you mean ribbon kink isn't a thing?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:13:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26936431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toucanpie/pseuds/toucanpie
Summary: FRIDAY's flicking up a message about irregularities in his HUD, flashing the words NON-HUMAN in his eyeline.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 11
Kudos: 90
Collections: Shipoween 2020 - The Halloween Ship Exchange!





	It's Dangerous, I'm Falling (A Cat Like You Should Wear A Warning)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [intoxicatelou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/intoxicatelou/gifts).



> ♥

It takes Tony six and a half minutes to find the reason for the frantic radio chatter.

It's a dark shadow moving at a crawl under a tree, only visible to him with the suit's enhanced night mode picking up body heat. Which means it won't be long before the Hammer goons arrive with their goggles that do exactly the same job, only worse.

He drops down lower, closing in on the heat signature but staying alert. There's no way for whatever's heading for that bush to know he's one of the good guys and he's not getting knocked out by a rogue-whatever-it-is and being left for Hammer's lackeys to find.

The shadow moves again and for a second Tony's sure it's a panther, that Hammer is experimenting with weaponising animals _again_ , the sick fuck, but then FRIDAY finally manages to refine the image and the outline is clearly human. One not doing so well either, dragging itself further into the undergrowth with a leg trailing in a way that doesn't look healthy.

"Oh boy, here goes nothing."

He switches to stealth mode as he swoops in closer, firing up a set of red LEDs that cast a barely-there glow from his gauntlets.

"No," a voice says angrily as he lands on the ground with a thump. "Leave me alone!"

Tony's threat level assessment drops rapidly, then drops again as he notices the trail of blood leading to the bush. In his ear, FRIDAY reports the signal they've been following is being broadcast from the body. She's also flicking up a message about irregularities in his HUD, flashing the words NON-HUMAN in his eyeline.

"Keep jamming that signal, FRI. We're not giving them any help tracking this guy down." 

He tentatively takes a step closer to the bush and the trailing leg flinches as the body tries to get further under the leaves. Tony stops, then makes the reckless decision to pull back the armor from his head in-case displaying his real face might help.

"Look, I know I don't come with flashing lights and a siren, but I'm one of the good guys, okay?"

He holds up his hands with his palms flat for good measure. The person? - non-human? - only twitches and retreats again.

"Boss, patrols are moving closer to your location. Given their current pattern of movement they will have line of sight in approximately 300 seconds."

Tony rolls his shoulders restlessly and wishes he'd at least once tried to read 'How To Make Friends and Influence People'. How did you persuade a bad guy's weird science experiment that you - the man in the heavily-armoured flying suit - had no plans to harm them?

"Hey. Sorry to rush this but if you don't want to end up back in some laboratory, we need to go."

"I'm not going back," the voice says, with a surprising amount of fight for the quantities of blood on the grass. 

"Great, I don't want you to either. Fuck Justin Hammer and whatever his cronies did to you. Do I have permission to rescue you now?"

"Rescue me?" the voice says, sounding confused. 

"Good enough," Tony says, and sweeps the top half of the bush aside. 

In the circle of red light is a blinking male human with a pale, mud-streaked face and bloodshot eyes. And - ears. Definitely an extra set of furry ears on his head. Which twitch at exactly the same time as FRIDAY picks up the shouts of voices and amplifies the sound of Hammer's goons yelling about a trail of blood. 

"Definitely time for us to go," Tony says, gesturing at the kid to come to him. "Much as I'd like to stay and beat the shit out of some of those guys, I think it's better we get you some place safe."

"Safe?" the kid says. He's pressing one hand to his neck and there's blood all over his fingers. 

Tony lets the nanobots cover his face again and his display immediately confirms the wound as the site of the signal he's got FRIDAY jamming. 

"They literally micro-chipped you, huh?" He feels his stomach turn. "C'mon kiddo, time for an exit."

"I couldn't get it out," the kid says, his eyes shining.

"But you escaped, right? So you did good."

The kid starts to shuffle closer, then stops, his face and ears (yup, real actual _spare set of ears_ , what the fuck?) swivelling in Tony's direction. "Please don't make me go back."

"Done," Tony says, dropping to one knee on the ground in-front of the kid.

Very carefully he locates the kid's legs and slides one arm under both his knees. The other arm he wraps as delicately as he can behind the kid's back and then pulls him into his chest. It's a little sickening how easily the slim body slides into place, no fight left in any of the tense limbs. Not even the extra one that makes Tony's brain think somewhat manically _tail???_

"Okay, we're going to do a little bit of flying now, try not to freak out on me."

Before the kid has time to do exactly that, Tony takes off.

\---

Two Hours Later:

"Tones," Rhodey says, in his 'You Spent How Much?' voice. "What the fuck?"

He's staring at Tony's new friend who's lying only just awake on the couch. Well, Tony thinks, at least the kid's no longer bleeding all over the place, not that Tony has had a chance to clear up the blood yet so maybe Rhodey is right to look freaked.

"What, have you never seen a cat-human hybrid before? And before you ask, yes, I found him like that. This is not my unethical science project, I am the good guy here."

"What is my life?" Rhodey says, still not looking away from the couch. "I mean of course I'm gonna help. Whatever you - it? Him? - need."

"Him," Tony says automatically. "Peter." The half-asleep figure with the tousled hair and the totally-not-adorable extra ears was called Peter.

"Peter. Got it," Rhodey says. "Just - wow."

"I know, right?" 

Obviously objectively it's _incredibly cool_ that there is a cat-human hybrid on his couch. But at the same time, Tony's also now responsible for the survival of a traumatised escapee medical experiment who half of New York's most wanted is probably looking for.

"I see no way this could go wrong," he says.

\---

Two Weeks Later:

"Oh," Peter says, as Tony very delicately touches one of his ears. He gives a little shiver and his eyes go wide, fixed on Tony's.

"Huh," Tony says back, freezing in place as his brain helpfully translates exactly what's going on. "You like that?"

"No," Peter says quickly, moving away from Tony's touch. It leaves Tony's hand awkwardly outstretched in mid air. "Tickles."

 _Right._ Peter's face is rapidly going bright red. As Tony is learning, his reactions are mostly pretty human with only the odd cat-related mannerism thrown in. Like, hmm, sensitive ears. 

"Sorry." He's not sure if that's sorry for finding every different reaction fascinating or for wanting to do it again. 

"S'okay." 

"Wanna have another go?"

They're trying to get some data on the system so they can understand exactly what Hammer did to Peter and what those genetic tweaks make him capable of. Tony did as much as he could from a distance to start with, but they're at the point where if he wants to understand the ears, he needs to look at them and touch them. Which Peter apparently likes but doesn't want to admit liking.

Peter nods but he doesn't look one hundred percent sure.

"We don't have to."

"It's okay," Peter says, slowly scooting closer again. "I'll think about something else and maybe it won't - you know, tickle so much."

"Sure," Tony says.

He reaches out gently again and this time Peter doesn't instantly flinch the moment he makes contact. This time he closes his eyes and bites down hard on his bottom lip.

Tony's fingers graze the soft fur of his ear and Peter's whole body judders.

"Okay?" Tony checks.

Peter nods furiously but he doesn't open his eyes or unbite his lip.

"Okay," Tony repeats more softly to himself, and goes for a gentle stroke to get Peter used to the touch before he looks any closer.

Peter gasps, his shoulders twitching up towards Tony.

"Sorry," he says, his voice sounding breathy. "That's really weird."

"Bad weird?"

"No," Peter says, his voice tight. "Not bad."

"Oh," Tony says, and lets his fingers find the warm skin beneath Peter's fur and touch it gently. 

This time Peter does a full body shudder and then he's pressing his head into Tony's hand, his ear velvety smooth under Tony's palm.

"I -" he says.

"Okay," Tony says, going for a quick reassuring pet before pulling his hand back. There, science achieved. Peter's ears are sensitive in a not-bad way. Look at them go. Dream Team.

"You don't have to stop," Peter says, his eyes flying open and then darting away when they meet Tony's. "I mean - you should get the data."

"I don't want to overwhelm you, kid."

"Nobody's ever - " Peter says. "They all wore gloves and they kept my hands in the cuffs. Sorry, I know it's weird, I'm weird. I didn't know it would feel like that. You don't have to stop."

Tony's stomach goes through a weird loop of emotions. Nobody but him has ever touched Peter's ears with their bare hands and that's definitely something. But it's impossible to think about that and not think about the cuffs and the fact they screwed with Peter's genetic make-up. Then he's right back to the beginning and that unnamed feeling that reminds him that Peter's ears are very soft and he likes to have them touched.

"It's okay, we can go another time."

"Oh," Peter says, like he's done something wrong. His tail flicks sideways in one of its twitchy left-right sweeps that tends to send things crashing to the ground if Tony hasn't cleared all nearby surfaces. "Okay."

His face goes suddenly sad, like he thinks he's done something wrong. Or maybe it's Tony who's done the wrong thing. Fuck.

"Ice-cream?" Tony says. That's his default when things go awkward. Everyone likes ice-cream.

"Okay," Peter says, but the moment Tony turns sideways to wave his holos away, Peter tugs his hoodie up over his head so his ears are covered up.

 _Hey,_ Tony wants to say, _no, you don't have to do that, you have nice ears, I'd love to touch them some more._

But that's not appropriate. Peter is apparently only nineteen (slash maybe twenty because although he counted the days that Hammer had held him, there were some he said he was unconscious for and he's not sure how many). And if that isn't enough to bring Tony up short every time he even thinks about making Peter feel better however he can, well, there's also the neat new scar on Peter's neck where Tony had very carefully cut the chip out of him. Or there's the way Peter threw up the first solid food he tried in months because apparently they'd only fed him paste through a tube for however long they'd kept him in a windowless room chained down. So yeah. 

"Ice-cream," he repeats to himself. That's what he can do. That's what Peter needs from him and nothing else. And if he has a new idea for his file full of things he'd like to do to Justin Hammer when he finds him, well, that's just a coincidence.

\---

Two Months Later:

Sometimes they both end up falling asleep on the giant bed in the master bedroom. Tony rarely even uses the room, let alone sleeps beneath the actual covers, so it's become the place where they hang out and relax. It's got the biggest flat-screen, which means it's perfect for when Peter wants to watch nature programmes in Ultra HD. Tony only teases him a little when his tail goes all twitchy when a bird comes onto the screen.

"Stop it," Peter says lazily, without looking, as Tony tries to touch said tail with one finger.

It's way too agile to make sense. It's like somehow Peter knows whenever anything comes near it. Then he can flick it away so fast it doesn't seem possible. How, exactly, Tony would one day love to know, but they've moved away from anything resembling examination and making notes. They both learn more about Peter's added features when they're playing around. 

'Bet you can't catch my tail' is probably not very scientific, but it's how they found out the tail's pretty fucking strong. And it always makes Peter smile because he always wins. (Unlike Uno, which Tony apparently can't make himself lose at, even when he wants to, even when Peter frowns and his tail snaps back and forth adorably before he sighs and puts the cards down.)

"Pet my ears?" Peter says, shifting so his head is right there on Tony's chest.

Tony clears his throat. Somewhere along the line Peter's learnt that asking for things with big wide eyes is the way to get Tony to do anything he likes. Peter has a pretty good handle on his reaction to ear-touching now too, so it's not all that dissimilar to petting an actual cat. Still, Tony can't help but remember Peter's early blushes every time he gives in to this particular request.

"Just five minutes, I'm not a petting machine."

"Uh huh," Peter says, his body relaxing as he gets more comfortable next to Tony on the bed.

He's been growing his hair out so most of his lovely sable ears are now hidden. It's good for low key adventures around town but means Tony has to ease soft strands out the way so he can get proper access for petting. Not that Peter seems to mind, the last bits of tension seeping out of his body as Tony's fingers brush his scalp.

His eyes close after a minute or so of Tony carefully stroking first one ear and then the other. Peter doesn't purr, but he does flex his body sometimes like his spine's more flexible than it is, an unguarded kind of wriggle that indicates he's really enjoying himself. He's much less self-conscious about tipping his head backwards now too or sideways into Tony's hands when he wants a particular angle for the touching.

"You're really good at this," Peter says a few minutes later, yawning sleepily as he presses his face to Tony's chest in a nuzzle Tony's not sure he knows he's doing. Peter's slightly longer than normal canines peek out of his mouth when he yawns for a second time, his eyes still closed and his face relaxed and absent of any stress. 

Seeing Peter's teeth always makes Tony want to do something stupid like kiss him and murmur weird flattering things into his neck like _I'm not a cat person but I definitely like you_. He has to hold himself back every time because Peter probably - obviously - deserves someone better than him. 

Or younger, anyway, more able to throw a game of Uno and less into tech that talks back.

\---

Two Years Later:

"No," Peter says firmly, with only a brief glance at Tony's outfit.

"It's great, come on, we both know it's great."

"You're not allowed to dress up as a sexy cat for Halloween."

Tony can't help but chuckle, reaching back to unbuckle the tiny collar complete with bell from his neck. The tortoiseshell-print suit, however, he has no intention of taking off in the kitchen. 

"Why, because that's your costume? All year round?"

Peter groans but then he smiles and comes just close enough to give Tony a fleeting kiss on the mouth before scooting away again, his cheeks pink. He buries himself right back into what he was working on before, looking adorably flustered.

Sometimes Tony almost regrets showing him how FRIDAY's programming works. The two of them have been in cahoots for months now. He's pretty sure they're secretly designing a spaceship but he's promised not to look until he's given permission to.

"So if I can't spent the evening as a sexy cat, what do you think I should do instead?"

He must pitch his voice just right because Peter's head drifts up like magic, his eyes just the tiniest bit hooded and his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Tony revels in the attention, slowly reaching up and popping the top button of his crisp white shirt, then the next one down too. Peter's eyes follow the movement, his tail going from complacently hanging behind him to raising up to one side in interest.

"If you don't like my costume - " Tony says, in the same low voice he knows can make Peter shiver "- maybe you should come over here and help me take it off."

His bow tie is hanging loose round his neck, waiting to be tied later, so he takes one end and slowly pulls it free, then sets it on the counter. He goes for his shirt cuffs next, pushing his jacket sleeves up and twisting his right hand so he can unfasten the little metal cufflink in the shape of a cat.

Peter's eyes follow his fingers, watching intently. When the cufflink makes a clacking noise as it hits the counter, his mouth twitches and he looks a bit like he's contemplating vaulting the breakfast bar. Tony smiles and does the other cufflink. Then he crooks a finger at Peter and starts walking backwards to the stairs.

\---

By the time they make it to the bedroom, Peter has untucked Tony's shirt completely and destroyed at least two suit buttons in his hurry to get the jacket off. 

"Waistcoat?" Peter says despairingly, when Tony finally lets himself be tugged out of his top layer. " _Tony_."

It's difficult to tell if he means 'Tony, why are you wearing so many clothes??' or 'Tony, why is the waistcoat also tortoiseshell?'

"You like it, baby?"

"No," Peter says passionately, fumbling with the next set of buttons. "I thought we weren't doing costumes. You said whatever I wore you were just going to take it off me. And then you went and wore a whole outfit!"

If it weren't for the fact that Peter's human ears are adorably pink and his fingers are all uncoordinated, Tony might believe the words coming out of his mouth. But he knows Peter better than that.

"So you _do_ like it."

"No," Peter protests feebly. His cheeks are definitely getting pinker, though. He takes a deep breath and then lets it out in a big rush. "I just can't believe you -"

He stops, his eyes doing a nervous sideways flicker before he bites his lip and cuts himself off.

Tony kisses his forehead. "Can't I believe I what?"

"Put on a collar," Peter whispers, burying his face in Tony's neck. "I saw the order by mistake and I thought -"

He looks up, his eyes wide and sweet. "I thought it was for me, I thought you wanted to put it on me and I wasn't sure that I could. And then you come in wearing it like that and looking like that! And you make it sound like you want to go out. Wearing it around other people!"

"Oh," Tony says. Well that's an interesting turn of events. _Peter_. "Want me to put it back on?"

"What?" Peter says, clutching at him like he has no intention of letting Tony go anywhere ever again, let alone all the way back downstairs to the kitchen to get the collar. "No? Maybe? I don't know."

Tony laughs, reaching for Peter's left ear and stroking it reassuringly. Peter tips his head into the contact instantly, his eyelashes fluttering in pleasure.

"Want to go to bed and work it out tomorrow?"

"Okay," Peter murmurs, shamelessly butting his head into Tony's hand in his signal for more, now, yes, good. "No more waistcoat, though."

"It is indeed a very bad, no good waistcoat," Tony agrees. "Coming off very soon at a bed near you."

\---

When Tony comes in from the gym two days later, Peter has the collar laid out in the very centre of the breakfast bar and is staring at it intensely. He's slouched on one of the high stools, his arms crossed on the edge of the marble and his head resting on-top of them. It's very adorable.

Tony leans down and presses a kiss to Peter's head. He's been wondering if the collar with the teeny tiny bell was going to come up again. And not just because Peter has more than once in the last forty-eight hours opened his mouth to say something and then shut it again. Peter was also touching his own throat absently in-front of the bathroom mirror that morning.

"Staring contest?" Tony asks neutrally, putting his water bottle down on a nearby stool.

"No," Peter says back, almost defensively. But then he softens with a little sigh. "Okay, maybe. I'm winning though."

"You betcha," Tony murmurs, pressing a second, softer kiss to Peter's tousled curls.

"I keep thinking about it. What it would be like if - I don't know."

He makes a frustrated noise, his tail flicking up to brush irritably against Tony's leg.

"It shouldn't bother me," he carries on, not much louder than a whisper. "They never used leather to try and you know, hold me down, just metal, but I -"

He trails off again with a sharp inhale of breath. Tony waits a second before laying a third even gentler kiss on-top of Peter's head, then a fourth to the tip of one of his beautiful furry ears.

"Mmnn?" he encourages, feeling Peter's tail start to curl shyly around his knee.

"It scares me," Peter admits, with a shudder. "But also I kind of want to?"

He stops staring straight ahead and turns, lifting his head so he's looking up at Tony. The expression on his face makes Tony wants to line up every carton of ice-cream he can find and organise a day-long marathon of nature documentaries and ear-petting and board up all the doors. But he doesn't, because he knows this is Peter's thing to sound out here in the kitchen in the light of day if he wants to.

"I want to wear it," Peter says, his mouth trembling just a little. "Because I want to look the way you looked. And I want you to think about me the way that I was thinking about you. But - but I can't."

A thick lump appears in Tony's throat and something inside his chest seems to twist and stretch unpleasantly.

"Peter," he says, gently cupping Peter's face. "Kiddo, I am going to love you with or without a collar on. I will think unrepentantly filthy thoughts about you with or without a collar on. I will worship you in any accessory of your choice. I -"

He doesn't get any further because Peter kisses him hard, holding him in place with a tight clutch on Tony's shirt. He presses their mouths together so firmly that Tony can feel the indent of Peter's nose next to his in a way that is unexpectedly life affirming.

"We're going to burn it," he announces, when Peter lets him pull back. "We're burning the collar."

"No," Peter says, but he gives a shaky laugh.

"You're right, harmful for the environment. I'm putting it on Freecycle."

"Tony."

"Fine, we'll put it in a drawer." He smooths back a strand of hair that has fallen into Peter's face. "And it's there if you ever want it and if not, no big deal."

"Okay," Peter says after a moment's pause. "And um later you have to tell me about some of the unrepentant things."

Uh oh, Tony thinks. "Done. One hundred filthy ear-petting fantasies coming your way."

Peter smiles and behind him, the sun seems to come out again.

\---

Tony has the idea while they're undressing for bed a few days later. His expensive shirts all come packaged in individual white boxes, wrapped up in tissue paper and tied loosely with a ribbon. The shirt that was delivered this morning for the gala on Friday is next door, waiting to be pressed, but the box it came in is still on the bedroom floor.

Tony picks it up, unravelling the ribbon from the thin crinkly paper and then dropping everything but it in the trash can behind the door.

The ribbon is soft between his fingers, the colour a deep red that reminds of him of life blood, of all the strange turns the world can offer up.

He clears his throat before his brain gets ahead of him and starts imagining scenarios he's not sure he should be imagining just yet. He turns round just in time to catch Peter shrugging off the loose sweater he likes to wear at the weekends. The one that slides off one of his shoulders the moment he slouches, driving Tony mad with all the skin it shows off.

"Hey," Peter says, smiling like he knows exactly what effect that particular item of clothing has on Tony.

"So, obviously you can say no, or that I'm insane, or that this is ridiculous but -"

Tony holds up the ribbon in his hand, making sure to watch Peter's face.

Peter tilts his head to one side, his ears flicking forward curiously and his brow furrowing. Well duh, Tony thinks. Of course he doesn't understand because that was a terrible introduction to the idea.

But then Peter's eyes widen and he freezes, his tail pausing mid casual flick.

"No?" Tony says instantly. "Bad idea, I'll put it away."

"No, wait," Peter says. He takes the two steps needed to bring him right opposite Tony and then he tentatively reaches out to touch the ribbon.

A moment later his tail resumes the arc it was sweeping on before - left, up, down, then right - easy and slow like everything's okay.

"For -?" Peter lifts one hand and then touches just above his own collarbone.

"If you want," Tony says carefully. "Loose. And only if -"

"Yes," Peter says. 

His hand shakes a little as he lets go of the ribbon, but his eyes are happy when he looks up, exactly like they were the first time they'd kissed.

\---

With the ribbon in hand, Peter shuffles back onto the bed, settling himself against the headboard. He draws his knees up to his chest, pressing his back into the thick pads of the upholstery as he examines the fabric in his hands. 

Tony reminds himself not to let the retreat bother him. The headboard has been their friend through many an adventure. Peter likes to have something at his back when he's trying new things.

Tony sits down on the edge of the bed to watch, giving Peter his space.

Peter runs the ribbon through his fingers one more time, then carefully reaches up and puts it behind his head, looking up at Tony. Shyly he loops it all the way around his neck twice and then takes a moment to pause. He stares straight ahead, his mouth in a determined line and his breathing steady and slow as his ears twitch like he's sensing it out. Then he carefully ties a knot and adds a bow with slightly shaking hands. 

That done, he goes back to staring at the covers, holding himself stationary. Even his tail stays mostly static, the end twitching against the bed but so slowly anyone not looking for it would miss it. 

Tony waits. He's seen Peter do the same thing before when he tried on a gauntlet of Tony's suit, his eyes wide and breaths coming fast as the nanites encased his hand. He looks less visibly freaked out right now than he did then, though his body is just as tense all over.

Finally Peter's tail curves up experimentally and flicks down onto the sheets, as if he's deliberately breaking his own reverie. His chin comes up and his head tilts to one side and then he gives Tony a tentative smile.

"What do you think?"

Tony's chest threatens to open up and deposit his still beating heart in Peter's hand.

"Perfect," he says, clearing his throat around the sudden stickiness.

Peter's mouth relaxes instantly into a pleased smile.

"You like it?"

"Immeasurably," Tony says, his throat still tight. Words seen a little redundant given the way the ribbon looks curled round Peter's neck, the loose ends dusting his chest.

"Show me?" Peter says hesitantly.

Tony's hands move forward, smoothing up the covers, before he even knows he's moving. When he starts crawling up the bed, Peter makes a noise and presses back against the headboard, his hips flexing up restlessly. His flush is spreading down his neck and to his chest, turning him pink and even more lovely all over. It makes Tony's mouth ache to kiss him everywhere he can reach.

When Tony stops just in front of him, Peter lets his knees fall away from his chest, his legs tipping open like an invitation.

Tony drags his eyes back up to Peter's face and smooths Peter's right cheek with the back of his fingers, revelling in the warmth of him.

"You're killing me here, kitten."

Peter shudders, his eyes sliding half-closed as all the stiffness seeps out of his body. Tony lets his hand move up, finding the closest furry ear and running his finger along one edge, bottom to the delicate tip. Peter holds perfectly still, his forehead furrowing with the effort, but Tony can hear the way his breathing changes, hitching at the touch.

He traces down the other side of the ear, even slower this time, enjoying the way the soft hairs caress his fingertip. Peter's eyelashes dip and he tilts his head towards Tony's touch, opening up his neck and pushing his ear into Tony's hand.

Tony comes in closer, bringing his other hand up to rest questioningly on the thin band of ribbon around Peter's neck.

Peter makes a desperate noise and then his hands are coming up to pull Tony closer to him, pressing their mouths together just like he did the other night, hard. His fingers slide into Tony's hair and tug at him, willing him closer. Tony goes obediently, letting his hands move down to slide round Peter's thighs. At Peter's approving wriggle, he slips his palms all the way round Peter's legs for purchase and then pulls, sliding Peter further down the bed until they're lined up perfectly.

Their mouths slide apart but Peter doesn't seem to mind. He presses kisses to Tony's face and neck and pulling him the rest of the way down until there's nothing left between them at all anymore.

Tony's heart threatens to beat right out of his chest as he reaches for the light switch, but he keeps going. One fumble of his fingers later and they're wrapped up tight in the dark.


End file.
